


Chains That Keep You Away From Me

by orphan_account



Series: Inescapables [2]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, M/M, Self-Hatred, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-05 13:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5376161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What does this achieve?” Hikaru asked, his voice almost a thousand tones lighter and sweeter than usual. His fingers rubbing at Tamaki’s, trying to make up for his terrible comforting skills. His voice never seemed to know how to work in situations like this, he never seemed to say the right thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chains That Keep You Away From Me

Tamaki’s eyes wandered to the mirror, his eyes trying to keep to paleness of his own skin and the strong muscles of his skin. His eyes desperately trying to focus on the soft moonlight against his hair with a certain amount of grace he couldn’t identify as himself. His eyes afraid that if they wandered, he’d never face a mirror or the bloody red handcuff on his wrist again. Or worse, he'd never want to.

His mind determined to beat the heaviness of his wrist. His brain completely focused on overcoming the hatred for himself bubbling in his stomach. The strong need to be finally satisfied with himself, overcoming every emotion he'd ever felt in his life. His eyes blocking the red, and focusing on the golden glitter scattered across his skin from all sorts of different creams and scrubs. The shades of gold slightly different areas, and completely the same in others.

He scrunched his eyes tight as his gaze wandered to the red, trying to focus on the exact brands of creams that made his skin sparkle. The thoughts of the sparkly creams covering his mind with the black tiles and bright lights from the endless fashion shows. The faces of countless makeup artists with all sorts of techniques and styles, filling his heart with a kind of softness. Their faces softening as the dragging feeling in his chest as his mind fought the red and focused on each and every one of their personalities.

“You used to love the colour red. You can love it again, right? It doesn’t look that bad,” Tamaki mumbled, his breath uneven and shaky. His eyes releasing slightly from their prune expression, his mouth relaxing into a line in reaction. Tama’s arms loosening from their shallow hug on the knees, until they were slumped against the floor. His face facing forwards in a headstrong way that would scare anyone. It was a shame the person he was fighting, was himself.

That aggressive face deserved more than to fight a scrambling loser like Tamaki. It deserved to fight someone with worth, someone that, no doubt, had confidence in himself. Someone who obviously valued themselves in every respect. But instead, that beautifully determined face got a clambering imbecile that couldn't see anything but negatives. Someone who ignored every single positive thing that happened in his life as if it was air.

His left wrist feeling as if it could fall into hell. The non-existent metal cold and stinging against his skin, the pain never leaving and consistent. The feeling no different from when he first saw Kaoru’s. Just more tolerable now, and less shocking. Tamaki knew this would be forever, and there was nothing he could do about it but let it sting and cut his self-esteem in half. There was nothing he could do about it. And that was okay. It was okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay.

“I prefer blue,” A voice grumbled from the other side of the room, before sheets muffled with a sound that was both comforting and rough. Feet touched the ground with no attempt of grace or lightness, the stomps loud with boisterousness. Tamaki’s mouth curled into a smile. His mind filled with something so much brighter and so much more beautiful than Tamaki would ever know.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tamaki asked, lifting his right hand upwards, yearning for the heat off Hikaru’s palms and the smoothness of his skin. His mouth making an audible gulp as he felt nothing but the air, the heavy weights threatening to fall on him once again. His eyes pricking with tears and his mind filled with the shackles and Kaoru and his mother and his father and every single fault he’d ever done in his whole life.

 “I’m here.” Hikaru stated, entwining his fingers with Tamaki’s, his fingers soft with a certain amount of security that made Tamaki relax. His shoulders sinking and his mouth letting out a deep sigh, the warmth of Hikaru’s hand seemingly sweeping through his body like a medicine.

Hikaru shuffled in-front of Tamaki, his feet purposely hard and stomping against the floor so Tamaki could hear him moving. His feet crossed over each other silently as he dropped down to the ground, his legs crossed. His knees lightly touching Tamaki’s in a way that was comforting, rather than uncomfortable or strange.

“What does this achieve?” Hikaru asked, his voice almost a thousand tones lighter and sweeter than usual. His fingers rubbing at Tamaki’s, trying to make up for his terrible comforting skills. His voice never seemed to know how to work in situations like this, he never seemed to say the right thing.

But his movements always made up for it. With secure hugs that would never break or crumble under sobs or harsh language and soft fingers rubbing at skin with a certain pushiness that was comfortable. His eyes were always wide open, both mentally and physically. Hikaru’s eyes were ready for anything and everything with an open-mindedness that Tamaki had never seen before. It felt nice to tell Hikaru everything.

“I thought if I could look at it, like this, for ages, that maybe it wouldn’t affect me anymore,” Tamaki admitted, his speech full of huffs and pauses. His fingers rough against Hikaru’s and his legs lifting up further into his chest. His chest immediately getting lighter with his confession and his limbs suddenly springing to life.

“It’s not something you can change,”

* * *

 

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Kaoru or something?” Hikaru snared, his eyes harsh against Kyoya, in a way that told him he wasn’t wanted.

Hikaru’s fingers gently caressed against Tamaki’s, his thumb rubbing across the back of his palm that always calmed Tama down. The soothing and constant movement so comforting to Tamaki’s skin, almost making him forget how intensely Kyoya was staring at his left wrist as if it was the devil.

“I thought you wanted, more than the world, to know what his mark looked like,” Tamaki spoke, his voice strangely strong like a wall. Though inside, he felt like a sponge that was airing its dirty laundry. The filthy dark liquid seeping through the large pours of the golden blond sponge, tainting the beautiful gold with a dull purple. The purple mixture filled with all sorts of wounds and pain that Tamaki couldn’t hide. The sponge was completely covered in it. Almost as if it wasn’t golden at all.

“I did,” Kyoya replied, his eyes still fixated on his wrist and the red shackle adorned on it, his teeth visibly munching on his bottom lip. His fingers so still on the table, which they seemed like nothing could move them. The fingers seemingly stuck together, the joints frozen and unable to move.

“Do you want to take it back? Everything you said, every single gesture you gave him to show that you love him?” Tamaki asked in a softer voice, trying to compare Kyoya and Hikaru in a way that was completely unfair.

Hikaru had his whole life to deal with the prospect of being an escapable. All his life, he’d believed it to be him, out of him and Kaoru. Kaoru was so much prettier than him in every single way. He was so kind to everyone he met, even more so to the people couldn’t stand. His hair was always perfect, and his slightly shorter stance always made Hikaru feel like a slobbering ogre. He always had the beautiful blinding smiles that Hikaru, no matter how hard he tried, would never had. He always had something better than Hikaru, he was always better than Hikaru. Yet still, he couldn’t have the one thing he strived for. No, Hikaru stole that from him.

Kyoya sighed heavily, his eyes falling from the chains to the small black cat of the back of Tamaki’s palm on the other hand. His eyes turning soft with the appearance of soft red lace wrapped around their pinky fingers.

“Yes. I shouldn’t have told him things I couldn’t guarantee,” Kyoya admitted, his voice low as if he’d never even admitted to himself. His whole body wincing from the betrayal that he never knew was in him.

“I told him you’d never be good enough for him,” Hikaru stated, his teeth scratching against his teeth with a string of sounds that sounded like chalk against a black board. Tamaki jumped in reaction, his body flinging into the source of sound, rather than turning away from it. His head resting on Hikaru’s shoulder, as if he was trying to restrict him from pouncing onto Kyoya with a growl.

“I’d never thought I’d say it, but you were right,” Kyoya said, his voice vulnerable and raw, his feelings spreading across the syllables in a way that wasn’t apparent before. His face completely wounded with feelings that he had probably never felt before.

“Yeah, well, back to my question. What the fuck are you doing here? Leave,” Hikaru snarled, his lips curling backwards to show his teeth still scratching at each other. His head and heart too angry to even acknowledge the change in Kyoya’s behaviour, let alone diagnose it and let him off. Though, Tamaki knows, that even if Hikaru identified it, it wouldn’t even scratch the surface of his anger.

“I have a few questions I’d like to ask you both,”


End file.
